I Expected More From Literature Than From

I Expected More From Literature Than From Real, Naked Life.

When The Young Woman Leans Over The Sky, About To Water The Flowers As Well As The Weeds, Her White Front Splits Open Until Her Milk Runs.

Even If Surrounded With Explanations, Auschwitz Can Never Be Grasped.

Melancholy And Utopia Are Heads And Tails Of The Same Coin.

How Easily The Routine Of Sin Establishes Itself.